Famous Jock Falls For Local Nerd
by starspangledpumpkin
Summary: What a Shock!


**Hufflepuff**

**Fifth Year**

**Drabble**

**Prompt(s): **[Pairing] Hermione Granger and Viktor Krum; [Action] Falling off broom

**Spring Bingo Prompt:** Purple

**Word Count: **840

**Stacked With: the Houses Competition; Spring Bingo; Monthly Challenges For All; Therapeutic Theorems of Tessellations; Shipping War (2019)**

**Challenges: **Yellow Ribbon (yes bonus); Gryffindor MC 2; In a Flash; Ethnic & Present; Fear Inside

**Bonus:** Terse; Thimble

**Warning: **I use the g-slur in this fic. The proper word is actually Romani and g-slur is deemed as bad as the n-word, particularly in Eastern Europe. I headcanon that Viktor is Romani on his mother's side.

**AU:** I also write Hermione as black looking at it through the lense that she traded one type of racism and prejudice for another. She's also a little more understanding in this fic about English being difficult. I also didn't cut her sister.

**Also: **Viktor's Paternal Grandfather owns the most successful Magic Circus in Europe. His Maternal Grandfather was killed by Grindelwald. Just clearing that up here since I have limited word count

Here, tumbled is to mean like gymnastics.

~o0o~

_You must not let up on your training, Viktor_, Coach Dimitri's words echoed in Viktor's head as the Seeker marched across Hogwarts' lawn, the sky the most lovely shade of violet he'd ever seen.

Viktor was only at Hogwarts to be the Triwizard Champion. Karkaroff was going to make sure of that. Gold and glory was the prize, yet Viktor already had that being the youngest Seeker to ever join the NQL. Sometimes, he missed the days when he was nobody, but then he would remember the taunts. Viktor the vulture-faced gypsy. A circus freak. Well, it would turn out that training for the circus made one an excellent broom-rider. As for gypsy… well, the word still made Viktor flinch. Either the journalists didn't know it was a slur or they just didn't care. But it was too early in the day to think about the bad things in the world.

Since no one was around, Viktor tumbled and somersaulted down the hill towards the Quidditch Pitch, being mindful not to hurt his Firebolt. Grandfather Krum would be proud.

As Viktor entered the Pitch, he could hear someone talking aloud to themselves. He slowed and saw a brown-skinned girl with a mane of brown curls pulled back with a wide, purple headband. Though the sun was rising, the Pitch was still shrouded in the blue of night—yet this girl had piles of books surrounding her, a chalkboard with what appeared to be strategy, and a broom. She seemed to be reciting Quidditch maneuvers as she paced back and forth. She must've been there since before sunrise.

This girl must a Quidditch Captain.

Finally, she got astride the broom, leaned forward, and promptly slid off the back end.

Perhaps a Quidditch fan, then…

"Ugh! Quidditch is the worst!" she declared, kicking the broom away.

Though Viktor could speak six languages, English was still too new to his repertoire. Even so, he understood those words.

Three more times, the girl tried to fly, and three more times she fell off. Viktor couldn't take it anymore and crossed the field, preparing his words. When he extended his hand and she accepted it, all English went out the window. As soon as their skin connected, electricity jolted between them and Viktor felt as if his ice-covered heart had been thawed.

"Thank you," said the girl, squeezing his hand a moment and then letting go to dust sand off her rear. "I hope you didn't hear me say what I said about Quidditch. See, my two best friends are obsessed with Quidditch and I always feel left out so, I'm trying to understand more about it. I just… can't seem to wrap my head around it."

Viktor nodded. She spoke very fast, but he got the gist of what she was saying.

"I'm Hermione, by the way," she said, extending her hand once more. "Hermione Granger."

"I am Viktor Krum," he said, taking her hand and kissing it like he was raised to do.

"Oh, gosh." Hermione flushed and giggled. "Sorry, er, no one has ever kissed my hand before. Actually, I think a prince may have at Disneyland, but I was too overstimulated to really notice. I have autism, so crowded areas make me a little fuzzy."

Viktor had no idea what autism was.

"I did read that autism can cause clumsiness and balance issues which is perhaps why I can't stay on a broom," she continued. "I thought after a few years of yoga, I might be keen to try again. Am I talking too much?"

"When I was young," said Viktor, thinking about each word. "I had balance problems, too. And knock knees. I had leg braces for two years. Grandfather had me train as acrobat once braces were off. Exercises helped with broom."

"I had no idea. That's very interesting."

Viktor then got an idea for how he could see this girl more often.

"I can teach you to ride broom," he said. "If you help me with English."

"I would like that very much, Viktor," she said. "I'm an early riser, so perhaps we could begin tomorrow morning."

"Then I will see you tomorrow, Her-my-own."

And then he saw a pained look cross her face at the butchering of her name. He had made that face before too until his father trained him to show no emotion.

"I am sorry," he said.

"No, no, it's okay," she said. "English is difficult. I have a nickname that my sister used to use. Mimi."

"Mimi," he repeated. "Da, I can say that."

She smiled and Viktor found that she had a beautiful smile.

"Okay." Hermione gathered her things. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Viktor. Or perhaps sometime later today. I'm usually in the library after class."

Viktor nodded and waited until she left before taking off on his own broom with a whoop. Mimi seemed like the kind of person who would have liked him when he was still Viktor the Vulture, and he could not wait to get to know her.


End file.
